


Mum's the Word

by HelloTragic



Series: If Looks Could Kill Verse [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mother's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloTragic/pseuds/HelloTragic
Summary: An epilogue to an epilogue





	Mum's the Word

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise. Here's a short Mother's Day add on.

 

 

There had been joy. In that moment when she’d heard it for the first time, that she was pregnant, she’d seen the way Killian looked at her and she’d been swept up in him and his happiness. She’d laughed as he picked her up and spun her around, nearly immediately apologizing and placing his hand in her stomach as he set her down, as if that might somehow protect their child from the world. He proposed then and there, knee bent to the grimy floor of the emergency room, but she’d declined, telling him that she refused to marry him simply because he believed it to be the honorable thing to do.  _ If _ they ever got married, it would be because it was right for them, not because he’d knocked her up.

 

They’d gone home that night with strict instructions for her to rest and ice her head. Both of them laid in bed, Killian talking about hiring a guy to come do some renovations to the house, to make it more child friendly. But as he fell asleep next to her, she was wide awak, his words played on repeat in her head. The talk of electricians, furniture, non toxic paint. It had all been foreign to her. Things she never even would have considered. 

 

That joy she’d felt was soon replaced by doubt. A small seed in the beginning, growing until the roots had taken hold of her. She’d never had a mother. At least, not as a small child when she needed one most. She didn’t know about cradle cap or colic. The first time she’d heard the baby’s heartbeat she’d worried that it was so fast, thinking something wrong. 

 

She wasn’t fit to be a mother. She felt it in her bones and that led to it’s own form of hell. The guilt a silent noose around her neck. 

 

He’d found her crying one night. She’d made sure to go into another room, tucked away in a closet, but he’d found her anyway. That night he’d forced the words from her lips. She ones she tried to hard to bury in the back of her mind. 

 

_ She couldn’t be a mother. _

 

That night he’d cried too. Partly because he feared she didn’t trust him, partly in anger at her for keeping more secrets, the wounds still lingering from her deceptions early on. But mostly because he felt like he’d let her down. That he hadn’t done enough to build her up, to make her believe in herself. He’d told her how no one ever felt like they were worthy. He’d reminded her of all of the baby books on his nightstand, his own self doubts finally bubbling to the surface. He could barely remember his mother, and whatever he remembered of his father was unpleasant at best. He’d grown up far too fast, a drunken wonderboy. He felt just as lost as she did. 

It got easier after that. The doubts and dread, her own insecurities still lingered, but she wasn’t alone anymore. Hadn’t been for the better part of a year. She didn’t go to him with everything, but with enough that the overwhelming fear no longer consumed her. Holding some things in still. Old habits were hard to break

 

The months passed and the baby grew. The nursery next door to their own room filled with furniture. The walls painted black and white. They’d found out ages ago that they were having a little boy. Killian had been intent on painting everything blue, but Emma objected, wanting something more modern. A few hours and a thousand pinterest images later, Killian had relented.

In the time since they’d lived there Killian had built an addition in the back. A shed to the less assuming eye, to blend with the look of the rest of the neighborhood, but it was soundproofed. The perfect place for a studio. His hand still hurt from time to time, but he could play a few songs at a time before needing a break. He’d never go on tour again, something she was secretly grateful for, selfishly wanting him to always be near her, but he could still compose. His first solo EP was nearly complete. He was a perfectionist though and claimed it still needed work. 

It wasn’t long before she was showing and placed herself on desk duty. She’d fought it as long as she could but after watching Arthur take a rolling pin to the face during a domestic squabble, she knew she couldn’t be out there. Could put her child in harms way.

Ironically, it was also the first time she’d really felt like a mother. That instinctive need to protect the life inside her. 

The search for an additional deputy had taken time. She’d even gone as far as asking Ruby, but small city life wasn’t an appealing option for her friend. Emma couldn't blame her. Ruby had always been meant for something bigger. Even James had briefly considered it as well, but the promotion the FBI offered him was too good to pass up. She turned down five local applicants for reasons she couldn’t quite explain to Killian or Arthur. Killian called it stubbornness, but she just had a gut feeling that the men weren’t right. Eventually though, her determination and desperation paid off in the form of a man named Cyrus. A recent newlywed that had just moved to town.

She continued to work as long as her body would allow her, but after Phineas’s due date came and went, Emma grew irritable, so much so that she thought she might actually snap Leroy’s arm in half during one of his weekly cell visits. It was Arthur that had stopped her, but Cyrus was the one that convinced her that it was time for her maternity leave to start. That the station would be in good hands without her.

Finn missed his due date by three weeks, and Mother’s Day by two. A month later, Killian got to celebrate his first Father’s Day and Emma tried not to resent him for it. Raising Finn was terrifying. The first time he choked on his formula she panicked, trying desperately to remember what the books had told her to do. After that, she made sure to keep a bulb nearby everytime she fed him.

 

It wasn’t all bad though. They did tummy time together. She got his first smile. They both got his first laugh. Neither were there for the first time her rolled over. She swore  _ she _ was his first word, even if Killian grumbled that it was just a babbling noise that sounded like mama. That his kid was half English so he’d never say mama anyway. She’d laughed at how ridiculous he sounded and went about her day.

When her turn at her first Mother’s day came around, she knew Killian had something up his sleeve, just not what. She’d been in the hallway when she’d heard him whisper “but mum’s the word.” When she questioned him over dinner he told her that a man was entitled to his secrets.

Her special day started off with breakfast in bed, served to her by Killian and Finn dressed in a tuxedo onsie. It was a homemade bearclaw shaped more like the number three than a typical paw, but the taste was fantastic. Killian had really come into his own in the kitchen. 

Later that day they went to the park where Killian had surprised her with a family photoshoot. The photographer had been great, doing her best to capture candid photos of the three of them. Emma had seen a few of the unedited pictures on the camera and couldn’t wait to get them blown up and framed.

Even better still came a few hours later, when Killian dropped her off at a local coffee shop, telling her to take some time off to herself. She’d been perplexed at first, until she went inside and found a certain brunette waiting for her by the counter. She hadn’t seen Ruby in months, the few calls and facetime videos they’d tried were always cut short by Finn’s eager lungs. The two of them spent over an hour talking and catching up, uninterrupted before Killian picked her up again, the two women promising to make more time for each other.

They went home and the three of them took a short nap together. They played and watched Finn’s favorite cartoons. They ate dinner and Killian drew Emma a bath while he cleaning up the kitchen and readied their son for bed. 

The day had been perfect, but nothing compared to what came later, when Emma went to kiss Finn goodnight. He was wearing a new onsie, one she’d never seen before. One that someone had made special. She read the words on it, a gasp leaving her lips as she turned to look at Killian, down on one knee again.

_ Will you marry my daddy? _

“Well love, how about it?”


End file.
